


Revenant

by DreamsinPink



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: Dreams, F/M, Gen, Memory Loss, Past life, Silver Millennium
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-19 04:00:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16526900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamsinPink/pseuds/DreamsinPink
Summary: With no memories of the past, Minako is struggling to place missing chunks of time. While working at a food cart during a local shrine’s autumn leaf viewing festival, she meets a familiar girl, a myterious man, and the memories so lovingly hid from her come back with a vengeance.Written for the Senshi & Shitennou Mini Bang 2018.





	Revenant

**Author's Note:**

> WELL. This was an adventure.
> 
> First, thank you so much to Eli, the brilliant artist I was paried with for being so flexible and understanding. Go [follow her on everything](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elianthos/profile).  
> A second huge thank you to my dear friend Nels, who while she isn't part of the Sailor Moon community, has always been my supportive beta reader.
> 
> * * *
> 
> For Elianthos' (gorgeous) accompanying artwork, visit <https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SSMB_2018/works/16525928>.

Minako Aino marched through the shrine gates, relishing in the golden rays that warmed her face. Coloured leaves crunched under foot accompanied by the strident song of the metallic trolley, which bumped along behind her. She passed a handful of other vendors, exchanging nods as the setup began.

“Okay,” she said, map held tightly in her hand. “Next to the takoyaki.” She inspected the booths one by one, eyes squinting in her search.  Soba noodles sizzled on oiled grills, and pots filled with vegetables hummed to a boil. Containers were stacked, and trash cans rolled out, as one by one the food carts came to life.

“Takoyaki!” she cheered, finding her spot next door, open and marked with her aunt’s company’s name.

Volunteering at the autumn festival was not Minako’s ideal pastime, but with only a couple of extra curriculars, and even fewer friends, she had little reason to say no. With a heavy sigh, she pulled open the flaps of a cardboard box; the sweet smell of sugar tickling her nose. She unpacked countless bags of cotton candy, hanging them along a wire in a pastel pattern of pink, blue, and white. Next came the candy apples, planted into a wooden board, each glistening red and decorated with a yellow bow.  

She bundled up the packaging, tucking it under the table and out of sight. With a few final adjustments, Minako was done and her booth was ready to go for opening night. Running around to the front, she snapped the perfect photo, uploading it to Instagram with a few taps, a couple of swipes, and a handful of hashtags.

With time to spare she scrolled through her feed, brow furrowing at months worth of photos she failed to remember. She enlarged a few, lips moving as she read the captions; still no memory returned. Minako frowned, and tucked her phone into her pocket.  

“Get a grip,” she muttered, briefly clenching her eyes shut.

For the past few months Minako felt as if she were a third-party observer to her life. There were acquaintances she had no recollection meeting, grades for assignments she hadn’t handed in, and promises she never knew she made. It was frustrating, to say the least, so Minako dealt with it the only way she knew how – she ignored it. She pasted on a friendly smile, and went through the motions, making amends along the way. Hours turned into days, and days into weeks and she held out hope that at some point the disconnect would cease, that she would return to _normal_. Whatever that was.

Dusk crept through the sky, and Minako watched the young maiko make their way through the grounds, lighting lanterns which in turn ignited the brilliant autumn hues. With the illumination set, the guests began to filter in, accompanied by a soft koto serenade that lilted through the air from the tea ceremony a few buildings down.

Minako’s heart ached, and she chided herself for being dramatic – what did she know about love? A crisp wind curled around her shoulders, sending a shiver up her spine, and she ducked down to add a jacket to the layers she was already wearing.  

“Hello?” A voice called, and Minako popped up from behind the cart, pulling the strings on her apron tight.

“Hi, what can I get you?” she asked. A blonde teenager stood in front, finger poised to her lips and attention darting between the goodies. Their eyes met, and the colour drained from the girl’s face.

“Minako?” she croaked.  

Minako’s stomach twisted into knots, and a wave of a thousand emotions rushed through her.

“Have we met?” Her chin dropped as she studied the peculiar hairstyle, gut telling her she had seen it before.

The girl hesitated, and drew in a breath, lips parted until she settled on her answer. “No.” She shook her head, forcing a polite smile. “Sorry,” she mumbled, gaze dropping to her shoes. “My school played volleyball against yours,” she explained, hands wringing and fingers twisting in front of her.

“Oh.” Minako nodded, supressing the suspicion that tingled the hairs on her neck; this girl had no reason to lie.

“Tsukino Usagi.” She stuck out her hand, her melancholy expression replaced by something brighter – something akin to hope. 

“Aino Minako.” Returning the gesture, they shook, and a comforting warmth spread through Minako’s soul. She was reluctant to let go, desperate to hold on to that fleeting moment of déjà vu, and for the first time since she could remember she felt a genuine smile tug at the corners of her mouth.

“So, what do you recommend?” Usagi asked, rubbing her palms together, eyes sparkling at the selection of treats. “Cotton candy or candy apple?”

“Well...” Minako tapped a manicured nail against her cheek. “The cotton candy is delicious, and the pink is by far the best flavour. But the candy apples are great, especially if you want to feel a bit healthier.”   

They chatted as Usagi hummed and hawed, nose crinkling in thought. Words poured from her mouth a million miles a minute, and Minako grinned. She bobbed along with Usagi’s musings, wondering if she had found a kindred spirit in this sprite of a girl.

“You know,” Minako started, chin tilting to the side. “I feel like if I’ve met you before.” She smiled, but Usagi’s brightness dimmed.

“I get that a lot.” With a brief shake of her head, she forced another grin. “I must have one of those faces or something.”

Minako nodded, but was unable to escape the sense of familiarity - and It wasn’t so much Usagi’s appearance that struck a chord. Sure, her hairstyle was unique: two golden buns perched atop her head, and Minako quickly realized they shared many similar features, but there was something more. It was the undeniable warmth Minako felt spreading through her veins, filling her with a sense of kinship and belonging.  It felt right.

“I should let you get back to selling,” Usagi said, a sheepish hue warming her cheeks. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asked, eyes bright and hopeful. “I’m coming with my family.”

“I’d like that.” Minako’s posture relaxed. “I’ll be here every day.”

 

Once the festival had closed for the night, Minako made her way home – goodies in tow and a small smile curling her lips. She rehashed her conversation with Usagi, comforted by the fact she was making a friend.

“Hi kitty,” Minako cooed, greeting the white feline curled up on the front stoop. She crouched down to pat his soft fur, and scratch under his chin. He rewarded her with a contented mew, nuzzling his cheek into her hand. “I made a new friend today.” She continued to rub the bridge of his nose. “Her name is Usagi. Maybe you’ll get to meet her some day.” His purring stopped, and he cocked his head to the side.

With a light giggle and a final pat, Minako fished the housekey out of her pocket. “I’m sorry Auntie won’t let you come inside,” she said, still irritated by her aunt’s incessant _no_ on the issue. She planted a kiss on the tips of her fingers, and leaned down, pressing them on the top of his head. “Night.”

 

* * *

 

Alabaster walls glowed with sunset’s golden light, and the click of heels echoed throughout the corridor. She opened each door she passed, scanning the rooms for any sign of her charge only to come up empty handed.

“Serenity!” she called, stopping in her tracks, and placing her hands on her hips in a show of tedium. “Serenity come out at once,” she demanded, hating the sound of the forced strictness in her voice. “This is no time for games,” she continued, hoping that the Princess would finally give in. “Your mother and the dignitaries from Neptune are waiting for you.”

A muffled “I don’t want to go,” broke the silence, and she tip toed towards another closed door.

“I know,” she said, one palm pressed flat against the wood, while the other gloved hand grasped at the glass knob. She slowly pushed it open, finding her liege slumped atop a white settee. “But as princess, you are –“

“Obligated, blah blah blah.” Serenity flicked her wrist in dismissal. She had been lectured everyday since she was a child on the responsibilities of her position. “You don’t understand.”

Minako perched beside the Princess, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I do understand,” she said. Serenity’s expression dropped, eyes cast downwards. Of course she did. If there was anyone that understood obligation and duty, it was her guardian. A girl only a few years her senior who had devoted her life to servitude before she was even old enough to comprehend what that meant.

The princess slowly raised her head, widening her eyes which welled with crocodile tears. “Will you do it just this one more time?”

“Serenity, we’ve already talked about this.” Minako frowned.

“Please?” she begged, pushing her lips into a childlike pout.

“You can’t just have me fill in for you every time you don’t want to do something,” she scolded. “That’s not what this whole body double plan is for.” Minako raised her brow, hoping her point had sunk in.

As children, the two girls quickly realized how strikingly similar they – so much so that the servants would sometimes mistake them. With age, Serenity’s hair had faded from a brilliant gold to a gleaming silver, but when necessarily their differences were easily masked by the Moon Kingdom’s legendary crystal, the Ginzuishou.

“Your mother will know.”

“Tell her I’m feeling faint,” Serenity said, dramatically draping her arm across her forehead.

Minako snorted. “That’s what we told her last time.”

“Tell her…” Serenity licked her lips in thought, eyes rolling left and right as she considered her options. “Tell her I have a horrible ailment that makes me look like an ogre.” She pinched at her cheeks, distorting her face, and crinkled her nose. “Surely an ogre can’t represent the Moon Kingdom,” she reasoned.

Minako did not look impressed. “She’ll see you and know you haven’t turned into a hideous ogre.”

“Fine,” Serenity huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “How about I ate _so_ much of cook’s sugar cream pie, that I can’t possibly move.” She laid back on the settee, pushed out her gut, and grasped her stomach as if she were in pain.

“That she’d actually believe.” Minako caved, unable to fight back a small grin.

“So, you’ll do it?” she asked, hands clasped together as she glowed with anticipation.

“You have to promise this is the _last time_ ,” Minako said, tone stern and lips pressed into a thin line. “Unless Luna or Artemis officially call for it.”

Serenity’s head bobbed vehemently. “I promise.” She signed a small x on her chest. “Cross my heart.”

Minako sighed, and grabbed the ivory dress hanging on the wardrobe, half-wondering if she had worn it more times than the princess herself. Without warning, Serenity pounced, and she was enveloped into a grateful hug.

“Thank you,” Serenity whispered, placing a chaste kiss on Minako’s cheek.

“Be careful,” Minako warned, stopping in the doorway before taking her leave. “He’s not very good at hiding.” She winked, and pointed to the hint of black boot that poked out from beneath the marquee. A young man emerged, head hung in defeat.

“Sailor Venus,” he bowed.

“Your highness.” She returned the gesture, body tensing. She wished no ill-will towards the Prince, but something in the pit of her stomach told her the affair between the Earth and Moon would end in mutual destruction. “Well, I have dignitaries to attend to.” She concealed her concern with a smile. “Wish me luck.”

 

* * *

 

Minako woke to the sun filtering through her window. Birds chirped, and it already felt like the day had started off right. She stretched her legs, flexing her toes with a morning groan, images of her dream forefront in her mind. Was it strange to dream about a girl she had just met? Perhaps. Nevertheless, it was a welcome interruption to months of faceless nightmares stewed in darkness and pain.

Rising from bed, she shuffled to her closet and stood in front of her full length mirror. She split her golden locks into two, picking up one side and twisting it into a bun. Her eyes narrowed watching her reflection – could she pass for Usagi’s twin?

“What a weird dream,” she mumbled, dropping the fistful of hair, and shaking out the part. She grabbed the red ribbon left curled on top of her desk, and tied stray tendrils from her face in a brilliant red bow. Minako paused, forehead crinkling as she tried to remember when and why she began wearing it in the first place. There had been a reason. It was right there, on the verge of her memory like a word trapped on the tip of the tongue. With a frustrated grunt, she relented – maybe the answer would come to her later.

 

As promised, Usagi came back to visit with her family in tow. She stayed behind to talk as they explored the shrine, weaving through lighted pathways and admiring the beauty of the trees. Usagi bided the time recounting tales of her terrible homeroom teacher, and Minako countered with her very own.

“It’s busier today!” Usagi remarked as they were interrupted for the countless. She watched Minako trade a little boy a coin for an apple.

“It is! Thankfully,” she said, reaching into a box under the table, and filling vacant spaces on her display. “After you left yesterday I think I only had about four more customers.”

“Have you seen the shrine?” Usagi wondered, craning her focus upwards. “All lit up, I mean.”

“No, by the time it’s over, and I’ve cleaned up, they’ve turned the lights off.” Minako shrugged; such was her luck.

“Go,” she urged, running around to the other side of the stand. “I’ll stay here.” She her back, and rubbed her hands together, ready to make her first sale.

“Usagi, I can’t ask you to do that.” Minako was flattered; it was rare that a friend would offer her such help.

“Good thing you didn’t ask then!” Usagi grinned, her face beaming like an impish child. “It won’t take you long to walk through,” she insisted. “You should see all the colours. It’s the trees are on fire with…” She paused to find the right word, and Minako couldn’t help but admire her sense of romanticism. “Magic, or something.” Usagi breathed in the crisp autumn air; a reminder that it was good to be alive.

“Are you sure?” She knew her willingness to trust Usagi should be a red flag, yet something inside told her to go. 

“Candy apples, 500 yen, cotton candy 300 yen a bag, right?”

“Right.” She pointed to a small tin box hidden beneath the tablecloth. “Change is in here.”

Usagi nodded, before sticking out her hand. “Give me your apron. I gotta look official!”

Minako smoothed down her blouse and skirt, flashed Usagi a smile, and took off down the gravel path. Her gaze remained mostly upwards, watching the flickering lights as the breeze blew through the leaves. Orange and yellow danced together, accented by hundreds of hues of red. Stars dotted the open spaces, as moonlight fell lazily over the land.

Usagi was right. It was magic.

Enraptured by the beauty of the moment, Minako failed to feel the hairs rise on the back of her neck. Her crash back to reality came when she saw a figure standing in the shadows from the corner of her eye; familiar and foreign at the same time. His features were nearly indistinguishable from where she was standing, but she could see his statuesque posture and sculpted form.

She spun on her heel in hopes of catching him off guard, only to be met by a chorus of crickets and the darkness of night. With a self-deprecating groan, she clenched her eyes shut.

“Not again,” she murmured. “I’ve got to stop seeing things.” She shook her head to clear her thoughts, turning back towards the food stall only to collide with a young man.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped, heart pounding with surprise, and palm splayed across her chest.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Minako’s face paled. She nodded, jaw slack and mind racing; those midnight eyes were unmistakable. “Enjoy the evening,” he said, giving her an awkward glance before making his escape.

“You too,” she stammered, struggling to swallow the lump in her throat. “Sailor Venus,” she whispered, overrun with images from the previous night’s dream.

 

Minako chewed her bottom lip the entire walk back, brows knit as she mumbled to herself. It didn’t make sense – how could she dream of a person she’d never met? She would have been glad to wave it off as a simple coincidence, a case of someone she’d passed in the street and inserted into memory, but she knew there was more to it than that.

“So?” Usagi’s excitement cut through her confusion. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“You were right,” Minako agreed. “How were things while I was gone?”

“Easy! I sold four candy apples, and two bags of cotton candy.” Usagi displayed the numbers with her fingers as she talked. “I told them to get the pink, because that’s obviously the best, but they went for blue,” she rattled, untying the apron, and lifting it over her head to hand back to Minako. “Oh, and I made a game!” Usagi gleamed. “For when it gets boring.”

“What kind of game?” Minako asked, thoroughly enjoying the lightning speed at which thoughts poured from Usagi’s mouth. The way she spoke made everything feel more alive.

“Well,” Usagi started, hopping up on the corner of the table, and swinging her legs. “You take a person that’s walking by, and you give them a whole life story.”

“Like what?”

“Okay.” Usagi squinted, eyes widening when she found her target. “See that lady over there in the green jacket?”

“Mhmm.”

“Well, _she_ is a top CEO at a big company. _BUT_ she’s always been unlucky in love – because, you can’t be lucky at everything, right?” Usagi waited, and Minako nodded. “So, she’s come here tonight to unwind from a tough week at the office, but she’s going to run into the _love of her life!”_ Usagi squealed. “But she won’t know that he’s the love of her life at first.” Usagi implored her to continue.

“Because… she’s going to bump into him, and spill his coffee _everywhere_ ,” Minako finished, and Usagi giggled in delight.

“Okay, do someone else! You choose!” She clapped.

Minako scoured the crowd, gaze falling on the man she had bumped into mere moments before. She pointed him out to Usagi, and instantly saw her childlike joy vanish, leaving behind sorrow and pain. Usagi’s breath hitched, and she was unable to hide the welling tears.  Minako felt her own heart retch.

“Do you know him?” She knew it was a ridiculous question.  

“I did.” Usagi’s shoulders dropped, and she slid from the table, energy and light vanquished.  “Sorry Mina-chan,” she whispered, “I better get going.”

She became a wraith disappearing into the night; an abandoned memory begging to belong. Warm tears ran down Minako’s cheeks as the weight of grief settled in her chest. Whatever the cause for Usagi’s pain, she hoped in time, she could help ease it.

 

Usagi continued her nightly visits to Minako’s stand at the shrine – even if she only had a few minutes for a brief hellow. Neither one mentioned the man again, and Minako had decided it was best not to ask. They exchanged phone numbers and began to text, filling each other’s inboxes with rants about teachers, photos of cute boys, and hundreds of memes. Minako could feel the wall she had built begin to crumble, and the months filled with holes and uncertainty mattered less and less.

Minako sent off another text; a string of emojis she knew Usagi would understand. She tucked her phone into her pocket, and looked up to see a tall man making his way over.

“The man from the other night,” she breathed, realizing that she had seen him around the city once or twice before; his silver hair and stoic features somehow chiselled into memory. Her cheeks flushed when he looked her way, and she immediately averted her gaze, fiddling with the wrapping on a candy apple.

“Hi.” It was a simple greeting, but enough to send her stomach into a spiral of butterflies.

“Hi.” She swallowed nervously, brushing wild pieces of hair behind her ear. “Can I get you something?”

“Miss?” A child called, standing on the tips of their toes, struggling to reach a bag of cotton candy.

“Sorry.” She ran to the other side of the stand, fingers poised on the bags. “Which one do you want?”

“Blue, please.” She handed the candy to the girl, who dumped a fistful of change into her palm.

When she turned around, he was gone. Again.

 

* * *

 

A figure stood in the shadows, unmoving aside from the rise and fall of his chest; she did not recognize him. Minako cracked her whip, its end curling around the assailant’s wrist. He grunted, tugging his arm instinctively towards his body. She stumbled forwards a few steps, but continued to hold her ground.

“Who are you?” she demanded, moving closer and pressing the blade of her sword under his chin.

“Kunzite, commander of the royal guard.” He flexed his palms in a display of surrender. “I don’t mean any harm. I’m here with the Prince.”

“Where’s the other one?” she asked, refusing to loosen her grip. “The blond that usually comes.” She raised her brow, challenging his claim. “He also said he was the commander.”

“Jadeite,” Kunzite hissed. “He is not in command,” he scoffed, in no way surprised that his comrade would feign a higher rank and not yield any questions; that boy and his silver tongue.

“Thank goodness.” Minako lowered her sword, and released her whip. She stood across from him, back resting against the wall. He rubbed his wrist, briefly examining the mark left behind. “He’s more interested in Sailor Mars than protecting his liege,” she quipped, watching his face for a reaction. There was none.

An eternity of silence passed between the two guardians as they measured one another up. He was the second of the Prince’s guard she had met and vastly different from the first. This one was stoic, with a strong jaw, pointed eyes, and ivory hair that almost rivalled Serenity’s in colour and glean. His uniform jacket fit snuggly over his broad shoulders, collar pressed and each button shining. As the princess of Venus, she could safely say he was stunning – a true vision of masculine beauty.

She no longer could stand the silence.

“I don’t like this, you know,” she said, hoping to draw him into a conversation. “It’s not right.” He did not take the bait. “It’s not _safe_.”

“Agreed,” he said, upon realizing she would continue until he spoke.

“Why don’t you do something about it?” By now she had placed a hand on her hip, her tone accusatory and stature unyielding.

Kunzite was taken aback, he squared his shoulders, face growing more angular by the second. “Why don’t you?”

Her expression softened at the question. “I can’t,” she admitted, attention dropping as she fiddled with the chain around her waist. “It would break my heart as much as hers if we forced them apart.” A golden glint sparkled in her eye, her demeanour perking.  “But if you could convince him–”

“I can’t.”

She nodded. “So, I guess we stand guard then.”

“I guess we do.”

Minako smiled; had she finally found someone who shared a true understanding of their duty and place in life?

 

* * *

 

Minako came downstairs the following morning to find her aunt glued to the television set, back hunched as she waited for the news ticker to flash by with updates. Her hair was still wound tightly in rollers, and she held a steaming cup of coffee to her lips, blowing every so often to cool it down.

“What are you watching?”

“There’ve been more monster attacks.” She shifted to the side of the couch, and patted the cushion, inviting Minako to join her.

“Monster attacks?” she echoed, sitting down, her curiosity piqued.

“See.” Her aunt pointed to the set, images of scowling creatures and terrified citizens bombarding the screen. “Monsters.” She sighed. “It’s the end of days, I tell you. Just when we thought it was over.”

“These aren’t the first?” Minako’s face scrunched in confusion, her head tilting to the side.

“Don’t be silly,” she scoffed. “We’ve been through hundreds of these attacks. Starting about a year ago,” she said. “Don’t you remember?”

“I guess I don’t.” Minako sank back into the couch, that unwelcomed feeling of being incomplete crashing down on her like a tidal wave.

“At least last time we had that girl to save us,” her aunt continued, “what was her name?” She shovelled the last bite of toast into her mouth. “Sailor something.”

Minako’s ears perked at the mention of _Sailor_. “Venus?” she asked, back straightening as she swallowed with anticipation. “Was it Sailor Venus?”

“No.” Her aunt tugged on her ear in thought. “Moon, Sailor Moon,” she said, finger held high in victory. “Well, they had a whole team, so maybe there was a Sailor Venus.”

“Was there a man?” Minako wondered, leaning forward. “Black hair? Blue eyes?”

“There was some Tuxedo kid, but they never showed his face.” She turned to her niece, filled with concern. “You really don’t remember?” Minako shook her head, and her aunt laid a sympathetic hand on her knee. She had maintained that Minako’s ‘memory loss’ was nothing more than a childish game or manipulation. Now, she wasn’t so convinced.  “Ah well, probably for the best.” She pasted on a smile. “Better get on your way.”

“Yes, Auntie.”

“Have a good day at school, and sell as many of those candy apples as you can!” she called after her.

 

The festival grew busier with each day that passed, shortening Minako’s visits Usagi. Still, the cheery blonde always made a point to stop by and pick up a treat, alternating between the two choices. She would bring Minako a hot chocolate from the vendor down the path, and carry on about how strong she was to stand outside for _hours_ on end at night.

Minako listened with mute curiosity, mulling over the idea of Usagi the princess. It seemed as asinine as it did a perfect fit. She had opened her mouth countless times intending to ask – to say _something_ about the dreams. She even considered calling her Serenity to gage her reaction, but every time the words stuck in her throat.

With Usagi having already made her rounds that Friday night, Minako bided the idle time playing Usagi’s game, and creating stories for passersby. Her tales mutated, until she was imagining herself walking through the shrine with the silver-haired man from her dreams, giggling at the very thought. It was silly, and romantic, and while scolded herself for being so ridiculous, she couldn’t help it all the same.

The wind picked up, and she pulled her jacket tightly around her, fighting back a shiver. Bags of cotton candy swung above, and she struggled to keep them from falling down. By the time she had finally secured them enough to know they weren’t going anywhere, the table skirt and her hair were an utter mess.

She pulled out her ribbon, gathering her hair to tie it again, checking each step through the camera on her phone.

“It looks good on you,” he said, as she looped the fabric into a bow. Minako froze, hands poised awkwardly over her head. “The ribbon.” He motioned towards it.

“Thanks,” she managed, the heat already staining her cheeks. “What’s your name?” she asked, apprehensively.

“Kunzite.” She should have been shocked or scared, but instead she just smiled and extended her hand.

“I’m Minako.”

They made small talk for a few moments, commenting on the splendor of the season. It was strange to be in a conversation so formal and rigid, yet comfortable at the same time. She knew so little about him, aside from a name and a few interests, but her heart leapt from its cage at each veiled chuckle and half-smile. It was that instant, fabled connection. The kind found only in fairy tales and romance novels; everything just fit.

He left shortly before the lights in the shrine went out, and Minako soared home with her cheeks stained pink. Energized from the night, she sat on the porch with the cat, glowing in the moon’s silver light.

Words and confessions spilled from her lips – her feline companion readily listening to every detail. It was strange. The whole thing was strange. The dreams, her fast friendship with Usagi, the man at the shrine, Kunzite, monsters, and heroines… it was all impossibly weird, yet perfectly right.

“Don’t you think?” she asked, tracing lazy patterns along the cat’s back. “Of course you don’t,” she snorted. “You’re a cat.” Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew exactly what she was saying.

Deciding that the long days and late nights were getting the best of her, Minako marched straight upstairs and went to bed.

 

* * *

 

She would deny it if asked, but Minako found the homely, marbled planet growing on her. The palace on Earth was nothing to boast about. Its walls were made of thick rock, stout and clunky in design – a far cry from the slender skyscrapers that dotted her home planet. But still, it wasn’t without its charms.

She paced outside the Prince’s chamber doors, her hums joined by the click of her heels against the stone, stopping when her footsteps were accompanied by another’s. She recognized the gait; long, even strides, each step filled with strength and purpose.

“Kunzite,” she greeted the man, who clutched a thin package of folded brown paper in his hand.

“Did you bring me a gift?” she joked, hoping to just once see the general smile.

“It’s not a gift,” he said quickly. “That would be inappropriate.” His eyes shifted to the carefully wrapped bundle, and he held it out for her to take.  “I – I just thought the colour was-” he stammered, watching as she carefully unfolded it. “I thought it would be complementary.”

“It’s beautiful,” she cooed, pulling out a red ribbon and pooling it in her palm. “Thank you.”

Kunzite released an uneasy breath, and they fell into their usual silence.

Minako ran the ribbon through her fingers, enjoying its satin finish. His gaze was obvious, yet she feigned oblivion as she pondered the meaning of the not-gift. She knew he was right; exchanging any sort of favours was highly inappropriate for their position, yet that made her cherish it all the more.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said, noticing a ring of reddened flesh around his wrist. She always forgot they didn’t heal the same on Earth. Bruises, cuts, scars - they were all lasting and real.

“It’s fine.” He tugged at his jacket sleeve, covering the wound. “It’s your duty to protect her.”

“Does it still sting?” She grasped his hand, and pulled back the fabric, and leaned in to inspect the mark. Pulling off her glove with her teeth, she ran her thumb over his skin.

“No,” he said, fighting back a wince.

“You’re a terrible liar.” She laughed, and he forced back a smile.

Kunzite wasn’t a man of many words, each utterance slow and steady as if every syllable was carefully planned. A calmness would settle into Minako’s bones when he was by her side; an invisible blanket of security, of knowing that there was another being out there struggling just the same. For a girl who had the future of the galaxy under her protection, these rare moments where she could truly breathe were an unspoken treat.

 

* * *

               

“Ugh,” Minako groaned, swatting aimlessly at the alarm clock that shrieked in her ear. She wished she had the luxury of time, but knew being late for homeroom would only make her day much more draining.

She fumbled her way through school, eyes growing heavier with each hour that passed. She tried desperately to recall every detail from her dream as she slowly convinced herself that perhaps they weren’t dreams at all.

She considered, momentarily, that she was going insane – that the months of lost time and faked memories had work her down enough to make her crack. She conceded that some of the dreams were nothing more than her mind reimagining interactions from her day, but others she had a harder time rationalizing. The continuity, details, and vividness… it was all too much to be a simple coincidence.

With every dream she felt more alive, more _herself_ ; like the holes she had been living with all of these months were finally being filled.

 

Released from the concrete prison and back to the fresh air of the shrine, Minako’s mind reeled as she set up her festival stand. It was routine by now, the location of each item etched into muscle memory. She had asked about Sailor Moon at school, shocking her classmates with her lack of knowledge on the heroine. They recounted story after story of her now legendary fights, briefly mentioning her known companions, but none rang a bell. It seemed Sailor Venus was a character of her imagination after all.

With day turning into dusk, Minako had decided – she was going to say something to Usagi. She chewed the inside of her lip, wondering how to approach the subject. Her foot absently made small gravel piles on the ground, pushing the stones left and right as her wheels continued to turn.

Usagi jumped up on what had become her usual place – the edge of the table. She stayed mostly out of the way, chatting constantly and only pausing when Minako had a customer to serve.

“Hey, Usagi?” she interrupted today’s tirade, convinced the world could hear the thumping of her heart.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a weird question?”

“Always.” Usagi leaned forward, ready to listen.

“Do you believe in past lives?”

Usagi’s expression changed again. It dropped to that same melancholy stare that had overtook her the week before. “I do,” she answered with reluctance.

Minako licked her lips. “Do you think that dreams might be memories instead? You know, from the past?” Minako pushed, wanting nothing more than for Usagi to agree.

Instead, she remained silent. Minako waited with bated breath, as Usagi’s entire stature shrank. Her shoulders caved, and back hunched. Her lips parted to speak, but nothing escaped; something was weighing heavily on her mind.

“Maybe,” she croaked. Shaken and scattered, Usagi gathered her backpack, mumbling a flimsy excuse before taking her leave. “My mum’s going to be wondering where I am. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

Usagi didn’t return. She replied half-heartedly to texts, but it was clear a barrier was being built between them.

 

With only two nights of the festival left, Minako felt a lump swelling in the pit of her stomach.  She hated the feeling; she hated knowing that when the festival was done everything would return to normal. Her messages with Usagi had already started to dwindle, and would continue to do so until no more were sent. And Kunzite who had visited like clockwork for the past few nights – what if she never saw him again?

Kunzite came late that evening. Later than he ever had. He stayed until the lights were gone, waiting patiently as she cleaned up, and walking beside her all the way home.

She told him about the dreams. The dreams of Usagi dressed as a Princess, of calling her Serenity and being her guard. She told him about the gleaming kingdom on the Moon, of the arched ceilings and marbled floors. She confessed he had appeared in her dreams, and he replied with smooth laugher – a sound she was sure she had never heard before. She smiled when he squeezed her hand in comfort, and breathed a sigh of relief when so much of what had been weighing on her was out in the open.

He hadn’t said a word. Neither confirmed nor denied her growing insistence that these were memories from another life. But he stayed. He listened. And she knew he understood.

They said their goodbyes at the base of her walkway, and she watched his retreating form until it vanished into the night. Her shoulders dropped as his warmth faded.

Everything was coming to an end.

 

* * *

 

Minako sat on a stone bench in Earth’s palace gardens, listening to water trickle from the fountain. She dragged a lazy finger through the water, neck craned to the sky as red clouds rolled across the stars.

“It looks like Mars,” she whispered, speaking only to the crickets and owls.

The clouds thickened, and the air grew humid, tainted with the scent of sulphur.

“What are you doing here?” A strong hand curled around her upper arm, and her stomach dropped at the curtness of his tone. “You have to go.” He pulled her up, forcing her to stumble to her feet.

“Kunzite, stop!” He released his grip, as she stared at him in bewilderment. “What is going on?” 

“It’s too dangerous,” he said, eyes frantic and jaw clenched. His state of panic settled in her nerves; something bad was coming. “They’re planning an attack.”

“Who are?”

“A group of extremists.” The wariness was evident on his face, and she wondered how long he had gone without sleep. “They’ve grown in numbers. It’s like they’ve quadrupled overnight.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying in vain to remain focused.

“What do they want?” she asked, her palm placed comfortingly against his arm.

“Destruction.” Minako inhaled sharply, mentally planning her next step – this is what she had been trained for. “Take Serenity home,” Kunzite ordered, “hide her in the safest place you can think of and stay there,”

“Kunzite.” Her head fell to the side.

“Don’t you trust me?” he asked, unable to conceal the pain.

“With all my heart,” she said, eyes wide and honest. “But Serenity won’t hide if our people are under attack.” She saw the fear flicker in the green of his eyes. “And neither will I. I’m sorry, we just can’t.”

Kunzite closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “Then we fight.”

He hated saying it. Hated the idea of going to war. Hated any chance of the life they had all built crumbling into dust. She felt how much it panged him; like a dagger twisting in her gut.

With a flurry of unbridled emotion, Minako leapt forward and grasped the back of his head, standing on the tips of her toes until their lips collided. Her nails dug into the skin on his neck as he instinctively wrapped an arm around her waist. It was hurried and wanton. They tugged and nipped, melting into one another until reality came crashing down upon them, pushing them apart.

“And after we win?” she asked, voice small and breathing ragged, desperate for an inkling of hope to cling on to.

“We begin again.”

               

* * *

 

 Minako bolted upright in her bed, beads of sweat lining her brow. Heart pounding and lips dry, the scent of smoke clung to the inside of her nose. A lump hung in the back of her throat, and she coughed in attempt to shake it free.  

She padded her way down to the kitchen, muscles tensing each time a floorboard creaked – she wasn’t prepared to fight with her aunt tonight about why she was awake at all hours. Standing at the sink, she filled a glass with water, vision blurry with unrest. She touched her lips, the heat of his mouth so real in her mind.

"You’re losing it, Aino,” she said, rubbing her palm over her eyes.

She spent the majority of the day between fits of sleep and wake, wasting the weekend and burrowing in blankets until it was time to leave. For the last time she loaded up her trolley, dragging it down the city sidewalk until she reached the towering gate at the front of the shrine.

Many of the leaves had fallen now, and the trees were starting to show their winter skin. The vendors were tired; many discounting their goods so there would be less to pack, and wanting to call the whole ordeal a success. Upon setting up, Minako discovered she didn’t have enough apples left to fill all the holes. Instead, she made a heart, and snapped a photo of her handiwork.

Minako tapped away at her phone, waiting for patrons, but the last day left little to be desired, and the crowd had substantially thinned. Her head jerked up when she heard screams erupting through the trees. Jumping to her feet, Minako stepped into the walkway, squinting in search for the cause of the commotion. The yakisoba man next to her shrugged, apathetic to the situation, and continued to add oil to his grill.

A roaring growl echoed throughout the shrine causing birds to scatter and people to run. Another monster. Minako swallowed, frozen in place – what was she supposed to do?

 

“You have to go.”

“What?” She spun to see Kunzite standing behind her, his clothes different now – no longer casual, but a pressed uniform.

“You have to fight,” he urged. “She needs you. Now more than ever.”

“Fight?” she echoed. “Who? Who needs me?” Panic began to rise in Minako’s throat, and she felt her mouth run dry. “Kunzite,” she pleaded, stepping towards him.  

Kunzite placed his hands on upper arms, steadying the trembling girl. Minako calmed at his touch, her speeding heart slowing to a steady beat. He leaned forward, with little sense of urgency, and pressed his lips against hers. A light erupted within her, her veins turning to liquid fire. She cried out, overwhelmed with a thousand images until everything settled and she was left sitting on her knees.

A thick haze hung above the rocky terrain. Brilliant columns crumbled to piles of rubble, and what was once a shining kingdom had shattered into ruin. Death hung in the air as even the last of the embers began to die.

She could see it all now. The bloodied battlefield and fallen soldiers. She saw herself weeping over him. Over all of them. She had failed in her mission to protect the princess, and the Kingdom was left to fall. 

Her chest tightened, and she struggled to fill her lungs. He crouched down beside her, planting a firm hand on her back.

"Go,” Kunzite said, lifting her chin so their gaze met once more.

She saw him at Queen Beryl’s side, a loyal servant with crimson eyes.  They had fought, more than once, and she almost let him get the better of her. She watched herself kill him, running her blade through his chest, freeing him from his own personal hell.

She collapsed, hunched on the ground as she sobbed into her open hands, gravel digging into her knees. Tears streamed down her face, as she struggled with the rush of a million emotions that shook her to the core. Memories resurfaced, familiar people and places colliding together only to burst into a moment of pure clarity.

Minako saw it amidst the pain and suffering; one shining beacon that prevailed no matter the cost.  

“Sailor Venus!” Minako looked down to find her arms wrapped with gloves, her blouse a satin bodysuit, and jeans an orange skirt and matching collar. A golden tiara crossed her brow. She reached up to her hair to find the red bow still in place, and felt her stature ease.

“Serenity?” She squinted, eyes still burning from the light.  “Usagi?”

"Sailor Moon,” she whispered, throwing her arms around her neck. “I’m so sorry,” she cried. “I missed you so much, but I –”

"It’s okay,” Venus said, rubbing her back in comfort. “It’s going to be okay,” she promised.

Sailor Moon stepped back, tears spilling down her cheeks.

Sailor Venus wiped them away the thumb of her glove, and steeled her back. “First things first,” she said, knowing that everything had finally fallen into place. “Let’s toast this sucker.”

 

* * *

 

Kunzite’s visits waned. Details grew distant, and the spark in his eyes began to fade. Memories of the Moon Kingdom dissipated, until they were no more than flashes of a long-forgotten past.

“To new beginnings.” Minako smiled, knowing he’d be there if she needed him again.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Revenant](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16525928) by [elianthos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elianthos/pseuds/elianthos)




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